Am I recovered?

There was a hopeless period in my struggle with an eating disorder when I felt like recovery was not possible. I honestly felt like there was no way I would ever stop having disordered thoughts. I would read about recovery, listen to people talk about their recovery, but never believed it was something that could happen to me. Even saying the word "recovery" felt bitter and false in my mouth. 

But something exciting and hopeful has happened in the last several months!  I find myself thinking about recovery as something I'm actually working on and climbing into. After my last therapy session I walked out of the building and all the sudden had the strongest urge to shout out for the world to hear, "I'M RECOVERING!"  Since I've been well trained by my amazing therapist to think and wonder about my thoughts, I realized the dramatic paradigm change and decided I should investigate. 

After lots of pondering on this topic I realized I completely changed my thinking on what recovery "looks" like. When I first started working on beating my eating disorder I thought recovery was never having another disordered thought about eating...never, ever again! So anytime I'd have those thoughts I would become discouraged and frustrated with myself. It was like three steps forward, two steps back. Progress was being made but I was so disheartened.  After realizing this, my therapist taught me that my thoughts are not me and I don't have to act on them. She told me that when she sees big stacked displays at the grocery store she always thinks about knocking them over, but that doesn't mean she does it. (Which painted such a funny picture in my mind of my sweet calm therapist running through a store like a one man demolition team destroying the huge towering displays of boxed soda or paper towels.  The visual still makes me smile!) 

That's when I knew that my thoughts might never change. Eating might always cause certain feelings, anxiety, and disordered thoughts...under certain circumstances. However, I could learn to deal with those thoughts without giving into them.  This was easier to understand than to accept. For many weeks I feel like I mourned the demise of my unrealistic view of what recovery was. I felt overwhelmed by the thought of having the eating disorder in my head for the rest of my life. But slowly a new picture of recovery was coming into focus in my mind. 

And then, another big change happened. One day I realized I had not thought about my eating disorder in a long time.  Maybe it had even been a whole week!  The thing about an eating disorder is it completely takes over your brain. It's 24/7 on your mind. At my worst it was almost debilitating. I literally had so little room for other thoughts in my mind that I felt like a recluse, although I was surrounded by people. As I worked on overcoming my eating disorder my mind vastly opened up, but IT was still there occupying it's little corner of my mind. Lately, I guess my eating disorder has been taking vacations. (That's fine by me!) I notice more frequent periods of time when I don't think about it. This has given me a new prospect on what recovery feels like. 

The final difference in my view on recovery is actually a huge change in my thinking about everything. Another trick eating disorders play on your mind is it makes you color blind. Everything is black and white. You are fat or you are skinny. You are pigging out or you are eating nothing. You are weighing every day or you can't weigh at all. You eat one or you eat all. You are the happiest you've ever been or you are in the depths of despair.  You are worth it or you are worthless. You are loved or you are hated. You have lots of support or you are completely alone. I could go on. Black and white thinking is dangerous. It's another trap eating disorders use to keep you from recovery. However, as I worked with my therapist and as I did the work to take back control of my mind I started seeing colors again.  All the sudden my black and white thinking about recovery was being challenged. Either you never have another disordered thought again (recovered) or you can only think disordered thoughts (not recovered).  I realized the fallacy in that thought. I saw some purple where I might still struggle with social eating but still go out to eat with friends. I saw some red where I am having a stressful day but still take care of my nutritional needs. I see some green when I listen to my body and feed it when it's hungry and stop when it's full. The whole rainbow of colors is there!

I used to avoid the word recovery. Now, I find it often bouncing around in my mind. I find it more on the tip of my tongue and it tastes a lot sweeter now.  I shared with my mentor about my changes in my thoughts on recovery and her response really rang true to me. "I have come to know that recovery is nothing tangible - it’s a process of growth, transformation, and self discovery. We can’t articulate it for anybody else and we only know what it means to us through our own unique felt sense of moving through it."  I'm grateful for my new, hard earned understanding. I'm extra grateful to feel like I'm now on the path of recovery.  Am I recovered?  Finished?  Done?  No, and I'm ok with that.  I'm still working, learning, and progressing.  I don't think I ever want to stop moving forward. I'm not recovered...I'm recovering. And it feels great!

Cotton & Sandpaper

Monday evenings are reserved as a family night that we call Family Home Evening (FHE). On this night we might have a spiritual  lesson, or focus on something we can improve on as a family, or just do something fun together.  I'm always looking for great ideas that I feel will help our family grow closer and be better people.  I just happened across an idea that I knew I needed to share with my family. I collected supplies and was so excited for the lesson. 

My three kids range in ages from 8 to 13. They are pretty good kids, but as a family we can improve with how we talk to each other. So this  particular night for FHE, I focused on that. I gave each person a cotton ball. I asked them to rub it on their cheek and describe how it felt. "Soft" and its many synonyms were listed!  Then I gave them a little square of sandpaper. I asked them to rub it on their cheek and describe how it felt. Rough was the first word they all thought of. I then told them our words are either like cotton or sandpaper.  Then we brainstormed words that are soft cotton ball words and words that are harsh sandpaper words. They really got it. We each made a card to put somewhere as a daily reminder to help us remember to use cotton ball words with each other.  Although this was several weeks ago, my children still are reminding family members to use cotton ball words!  

I was pretty pleased with the lesson. However, in an off moment I caught myself using sandpaper words with myself. That's one aspect of eating disorders that is so hard to over-come...the negative self talk. I think I've always been hard on myself, but once ED took over, it got completely vicious. But, after our FHE lesson, I started being more aware of my internal self communication. I noticed I used a plethora of sandpaper words and started working hard to soften the way I thought about myself. It's a work in progress and there are still sandpaper moments, but I'm working.  

Proverbs 16:24 says, "pleasant words are as an honeycomb, sweet to the soul, and health to the bones". This is true with friends, family, and with how we think and communicate internally with ourselves. So throw out those sandpaper words and fill the world with cotton ball words!  It will truly be "sweet to the soul"!  

Recovery Honeymoon

The past month has been a great month for me regarding recovery. I've gone long periods of time with out even thinking about having an eating disorder. I realized that I completely stopped following one of ED's rules after not doing it for three weeks. I just didn't do it one day! No planning, no thought, NO ANXIETY!  (I also didn't even realize how significant an event this was for over two weeks!) For the first time, I'm thinking recovery is really possible and I can totally do this!  

This doesn't mean smooth sailing, and I'm actually ok about that.  It's life!  Tragic national headlines this month kind of hit me like a punch in the gut. I felt very sad and overwhelmed. But I reached out and asked my therapist for help. And of course, she gave me great advice and encouragement.  I made adjustments and kept on rolling!

I've been thinking a lot about where I am in recovery. I've decided to call this stage the "honeymoon" stage of recovery. Just like a newly married couple, each life event, holiday, and experience is "new". (Let me tell you, my first college football season as a new bride was a real eye opener!)  Recovery is the same way!  Experiencing life with out an eating disorder is a learning experience. First family reunion...first summer vacation...first Christmas.  Sometimes these events don't even slow me down. But if I do hit any bumps I'm getting good at asking for help and support.  

As I left my monthly visit with my therapist today, I was feeling so great!  Fighting ED has been the hardest thing I've ever done. I am proud of the hard work I've done to get to this point. I felt like shouting out loud!  "I'm recovering!!!!"  But since it's the "honeymoon" stage, maybe I should decorate my car with tin cans dragging behind, and big painted letters on the back that say "just recovered!", and hearts on all my windows!  I think recovery and I have a long promising future together!  

I HATE FOOD!

It is still amazing to me how ED (eating disorder) finds the perfect time to jump in my head. I had an interesting successful use of my recovery tools today. 

My son started out yesterday with a headache before school. I brought him home to try and sleep it off so he could maybe still go to field day. It kept getting worse and worse. He started throwing up. By 4:30 I was really worried. He was in excruciating pain. I took him to a med clinic and waited over two hours to be seen. They never gave him any thing for pain. They tested his urine and said he was dehydrated and had high levels of ketones. The doc told me he wasn't eating enough - so his body was breaking down fat causing the ketones in his urine. They said I should go home and hydrate him. When I asked about an IV they said, "Well we can try to get an IV in him but if we can take him to the ER."  This was over three hours after I walked into the clinic and nothing had been done. I was not happy with the care he was receiving and I was trying to be assertive. But I was also alone with a sick kid. I finally had enough and told them we were just leaving. Then my husband showed up. We were going to take him to the ER. But he begged us to just take him home. I stayed up all night keeping medicine in him and encouraging him to drink. (They did give him ZOFRAN for nausea at the clinic and so he was finally able to keep stuff down.)  I took him to his doctor this morning. They ordered a series of blood work but one of them had to be done fasting so I will take him in the morning so he only has to be stuck once. They want to check on his blood sugar levels. We will know next week what those tests tell us. 

So, where was ED and when did I use tools?  Well after we left the lab today I kept hearing the doctor from last night saying over and over in my mind "He's not eating enough!"  I started to feel very anxious and question if I was feeding him enough. I started to feel very guilty and then I started to think about how much I hate food. I was totally full of loathing for food!  I was so angry at myself. I felt like I was a horrible parent. All my effort to teach my children to be healthy eaters was wrong. I was obviously starving them. Then all the sudden I heard my therapists voice. "I wonder why you are thinking this?"  So I did a little evaluation and of course I realized I was very tired from lack of sleep last night and a stressful day yesterday.  ED - that sneaky villain!  I had even thought about skipping meals and everything today. I hated food!  I was so mad at food and at myself. But after I was able to wonder why I was having disordered thoughts and finding a reason for them, I committed to eat healthy and not skip any meals.  I also reached out for help and talked to my mom. She assured me my son is a good eater and that I was not doing anything wrong in regards to the food I prepare for my kids. I'm still tired but I'm very proud I was able to stop myself from the extreme thinking and to understand why I was struggling with disordered thoughts.  Sorry I hated you food!

The Noose Around My Neck

Things have been going really well.  I've felt strong, healthy, and making good progress. After a great week of family vacation, I met with my therapist for my monthly appointment. My one concern that I wanted to discuss is that spring and summer are just around the corner.  The last two years, these weren't good times for me AT ALL!  So I expressed this to my therapist. She validated my concern but then basically told me I need to trust myself more and not panic every time I sense disordered thoughts about eating on the horizon.  She reminded me AGAIN of how far I've come and how much more I know now. Then she said "recovery doesn't mean never having eating disordered thoughts it means never doing what those thoughts tell you."  She called this radical abstinence. 

Cue anxiety!  Literally right there in her office, I felt my heart stop and my breathing tightened. NEVER GIVE INTO ANOTHER DISORDERED THOUGHT ABOUT EATING?!?!  NEVER?  Don't get me wrong. I don't want to go back to where I was. Honestly though, I just felt like I could keep my eating disorder in my back pocket. You know, just in case I need it.  When asked what I would need it for I wasn't  exactly sure. I guess I feel like I might need it in case something comes up and I can't handle it with out my eating disorder. 

The more I thought about giving it up...taking it out of my pocket and throwing it away for good...the more anxious and emotional I became. I know this doesn't make sense.  So I kept trying to think of how I could explain it to others. 

An eating disorder is like a rope. When the hike through life's mountains gets rough and tough I hold on tight to the rope. No matter what, if I hold on to the rope I can't fall down the mountainside!  The rope keeps me from crashing into the rocks below. But there is a catch - the end of the rope is tied around my neck in a noose. So the rope helps me survive as long as I'm holding on to it but also has the potential to kill me if I get tired or lose control of my grip on the rope.  I'm pretty fond of my rope - not the noose part of course. I am really scared to let it go and not use it. It's helped me at times when I felt I had nothing else available. However, now I have other tools (things I've learned in therapy) available. I'm not really great at using them, and most of them are untested in a big crisis. Even if these tools don't work, I've learned that I also have a safety net (family and friends who love me) below. But my rope is always right here.  I know how to use it.  It's familiar.  It's comforting.  It is close...albeit too close. 

So this is where I'm at. I think the reason I get so anxious about any sign of eating disordered thoughts is because I know I'm keeping my eating disorder in my back pocket. I haven't thrown out the rope...I'm letting it dangle just within reach. Because of this, these thoughts aren't just passing through my mind. They are still very convenient to use.  

I know what I should do. I know what I need to do. None of this knowledge changes the fact that I've grown comfortable with my rope and am scared to give it up. This one is going to take some time, some thought, some discomfort, some prayer, and a big huge dose of faith. 

LOVE - perfectly imperfect and an 80's Whitney Houston classic

The last several weeks I've been thinking about love quite a bit.  (And not just because it was just Valentine's Day!)  The reason it's been on my mind is because I feel like I'm at a point in my progression in overcoming my eating disorder that I need to address a hard issue that I've been putting off for a while. As I was talking to my therapist about being authentic and kindly accepting my imperfections the topic of self-compassion came up. 

It's important that I interject a bit of my history at this point. I was raised in a very kind and loving family. I never doubted my parents love for me. Sure, I got in trouble sometimes, but discipline was always followed with an out pouring of love. Still to this day I count my parents love for me as one of my greatest pillars of strength.  I was also raised in a very religious home. I bet I can count the number of Sunday's I missed church in my childhood on one hand!  I'm grateful for my spiritual education of a kind loving Heavenly Father, and of an equally loving and self sacrificing Savior, Jesus Christ. 

Despite all this love - somewhere along the way I started to feel flawed and very unworthy of it all. My self image tumbled to some pretty low lows. I became caught up in personal perfectionism. I began to hold myself up to unrealistic expectations in areas of my life. I wasn't an over achiever, I was a self loather. Working hard to achieve a goal can get you places. Self loathing only holds you back. 

So once I went out into the big wide world (AKA - college)  I started to really struggle. Although my family still loved me and I still was attending church, I began to believe the hateful perfectionist voice in my head. That is when I first began to experience serious disordered thoughts about my body, food, and eating. 

Now, more than 20 years later, I am successfully learning to battle those disorders thoughts!  But some things are hard for me to understand. How do you show self-compassion?  As I was talking with my therapist I asked her, "How do you love yourself?"  Her response was simple yet  a huge awakening to me. She said, that my self-talk should be the same as how I talk to my friends and loved ones.  Makes logical sense, but is a bit harder to implement. For example, if a friend said "I think I gained ten pounds on vacation!"  I'd say, "No! You look great!  Maybe you just need to move around a bit and you'll feel better.  Let's go walking every morning this week!"  But, if in my mind I think to myself, "My clothes are all tight,have I gained weight?" My self reply is not very gentle, "You are a fat slob! Why don't you have more control. Get your lazy butt up and exercise until you look as thin as a model!  I'm sick of looking at this image in the mirror!  That's it!  No more eating for you till you learn to control pig like urges!" I would never in a million years talk to a friend or family member like that!  

That brings me back to my past few weeks contemplating love. What is love?  How do I show love?  How do I feel loved?  Why should I love myself?  What is the greatest love of all?  That last question is easy...I'm a child of the 80's and Whitney Houston answered that question. 

"Because the greatest love of all

Is happening to me

I found the greatest love of all

Inside of me"

Self-compassion isn't an easy thing for me. I am my worst critic.  However, I'm trying to take it one step at a time. I'm trying to practice "the greatest love of all".  I'm trying to be gentle with myself, even when I miss opportunities to practice self-compassion. I'm trying to learn from my mistakes in that regard as well.  Christopher Germer said, "A moment of self-compassion can change your entire day.  A string of such moments can change the course of your life."  That is my goal; to practice self-compassion in the moment, and collecting those moments to change my life!  

Singing it Whitney!

"Learning to love yourself

It is the greatest love of all"

Excuse me! Who am I?

"The thing that is really hard, and really amazing, is giving up on being perfect and beginning the work of becoming yourself," Anna Quindlen

One of the hardest things for me to confront in my journey to recover from anorexia is realizing that I don't really know who I am.  I am so busy trying to be this person I imagine everyone wants me to be, that I've lost myself along the way. 

So, how's this working out for me?  Not great!  

I discussed this issue with my therapist. I not only want to be the true authentic me, but I also want to like me. (Another topic for another post!)  Even typing those words feels uncomfortable. It seems narcissistic to be thinking so much about me. It's not like I have a shortage of other people to think about and take care of!  However, I can see the importance of being authentic and loving me. 

Being authentic means, I am me, warts and all. I embrace the good,bad, and ugly. But I never spend too much time worrying or fretting about each of those. I am ok with not being perfect.  I believe I am good enough to belong and don't present a façade of perfection.  I stop being the "people pleaser".  

Being authentic is scary.  I told my therapist I was scared how my family would perceive me.  They might like the "other" me better. She told me that not being authentic can lead to so many problems...eating disorders, anxiety, resentment, blame, depression. I knew then that I had to make fixing this a priority. 

I'm not sure how well I'm doing. But I am thinking about it. I try to hesitate before I respond to questions asking me my opinion. I try to keep things real and not let Polly Perfection take over.  I'm listening to my body and stoping when I'm tired or done. I'm saying no when I can't do something instead of saying yes.  Changing the way I've been for as long as I can remember is hard, but not impossible.  

I'd like to introduce you to myself. My name is Rosalind.  I'm NOT perfect, but I'm an OK person.